


As Minhas Condolências (My Condolences)

by LCampbellFE



Category: Original Work
Genre: Family Member Death, Grandmother - Freeform, Nonfiction, Portuguese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCampbellFE/pseuds/LCampbellFE
Summary: This is the nonfiction piece I wrote in my second year of university (2018).I wrote about losing my grandma and the connection I had/didn't have with her. It seems that whenever I want to write a piece about myself I always write about how a death has affected my life (see my previous nonfiction piece I wrote about losing my sister; "She's Worth Your Tears").





	As Minhas Condolências (My Condolences)

Vacations are a fun experience, but sometimes they end with something unexpected happening. 

My grandma and I had never been very close. She barely knew English and I don’t know any Portuguese, but we knew that we cared for each other. My parents are divorced and my dad had been living with his parents for years. Whenever my brother, M, and I would go to spend the weekend with him, Grandma would be in the small kitchen making chicken noodle soup from a package. The townhouse was the first home she and Grandpa had bought in Canada when they moved from Portugal when my dad was ten years old. I’ll always remember her sitting at the end of the kitchen table saying, “eat, eat, it’s good for you!” 

That tradition was broken when my immediate family moved to Manitoba, leaving our other family in Ontario. It was in grade nine when my mom got annoyed with my dad for going on trips to Mexico and Dominican Republic without taking M and I. My parents agreed on the payment for the flights, allowing us to finally go on a trip with my dad to the Dominican Republic. 

This trip had been very different from when we used to go to Bronte Creek. Grandma had to take me to the bathroom when I was little because when I walked in, all I saw was a bunch of girls changing. I had been awkward and Grandma was the first to help me. We couldn’t communicate, but I appreciated having her with me. She understood what was going on for me. 

During the Dominican Republic trip, everyone had been relaxing when our dad’s cell phone rang. He listened to Tia F’s words before passing the phone to Tia S. I can still remember the anguish, sadness, and pain that painted her face. Her hand instantly went up to her mouth as she started to cry. My dad went to console her, but she pushed him away. M, Dad, and I went back to our room to get away; my cousins did the same with their parents. Grandma had passed away in her sleep. 

When M and I returned home in Manitoba, my mom talked to us about it and put her death in a different light for me. She said that Grandma loved her family a lot and that our trip was a good time for her to pass away and not have her children, two of three, plus her grandchildren, four of eight, see her in such pain in her last moments. She reminded me that Grandma is still a mom and she wouldn’t want to put that burden on her kids. 

I sometimes wish I could go back to those moments when my hair was down to my butt and she would sit on the old couch and braid it for me, as I was too young to do it myself. They were small moments, but they were precious.


End file.
